


lost my senses, i'm defenceless

by clairdeloune



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Boys Being Idiots, Canon Compliant, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, also Louis is in love with Sebastian Stan because why not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 23:47:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5025394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clairdeloune/pseuds/clairdeloune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You told Nick Grimshaw <i>what</i>?” Louis asks calmly.  He can be <i>so</i> calm. He’s the best at being calm, no matter what Liam says. He can match Harry’s calm with his own calm, won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing Louis freak out, no way.</p><p>“I told him you’d get papped wearing something from his collection,” Harry repeats and there’s so much fucking glee in his voice, like he’s stupidly proud of coming up with that idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lost my senses, i'm defenceless

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so. This is absolutely ridiculous and different from things I usually write but I hope you'll like it nonetheless. 
> 
> Big thank you to [Heidi](http://infinitelymint.tumblr.com/) for betaing this for me and being absolutely lovely, as always. I don't know what I'd do without you but I definitely wouldn't be posting this. I want to give past-me a pat on the back for sending you that message on anon over a year ago.

Louis’ stare is cold and unwavering and truly intimidating and Harry should definitely stop smirking if he doesn’t want Louis to punch him in the mouth.

“You told Nick Grimshaw _what_?” Louis asks calmly.  He can be _so_ calm. He’s the best at being calm, no matter what Liam says. He can match Harry’s calm with his own calm, won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing Louis freak out, no way.

“I told him you’d get papped wearing something from his collection,” Harry repeats and there’s so much fucking glee in his voice, like he’s stupidly proud of coming up with that idea. Louis could probably tell him about all the people on Tumblr who already made manips of him wearing Grimshaw’s shit ages ago, but that would also mean explaining why he was on Tumblr in the first place and how he stumbled upon posts tagged as _tomlinshaw_. Apparently people are really into this whole hate-sex thing, who knew. He definitely isn’t going to discuss this with Harry, though. Harry would just fucking smirk at him and ask if he wants to fuck Nick.

Which he doesn’t, obviously. He still has some standards and self respect, thank you very much.

“And why would you do that? Why would _I_ do that?” His fingers are itching. He doesn’t clench them into a fist though and he also doesn’t move. He stays in his place and just keeps staring at Harry, whose eyes are positively sparkling. Louis wonders what would be the best way to kill him. Something quick, since the boys are already on their way and will be here any minute, and something he could easily explain.

“Because you love me and you also love Topman, and Grimmy made some things that fit your style perfectly,” Harry immediately recites, like it’s something he’s spent a lot of time thinking about. Louis really isn’t impressed with him right now. The smile slowly sliding off Harry’s face might possibly mean that he’s starting to realise that.

“My style is nothing like Grimshaw’s,” Louis says. He’s _so_ calm, really. “You’re both into the same hipstery, obnoxious clothes, shouldn’t you be the one wearing his collection?”

“You love my shirts,” Harry grumbles, tugging at the hem of his ridiculously pink shirt that’s halfway unbuttoned. He toys with another button and if he undoes it too, Louis will cut his fingers off.

“If you undo one more button, I’ll cut your fingers off,” he says out loud. Harry pouts. Louis tries to look even more unimpressed.

“Also I despise your shirts. I‘m gonna take them all one day while you sleep and cut them into pieces and then strew them all over the house.”

“I literally caught you sleeping in one of the silk ones, Lou. You’re not fooling anyone.”

“Lies!” Louis shrieks. Harry just looks smug. You’d think he’d have learnt what’s good for him after being Louis’ friend for so many years. “Absolute, disgusting lies, Styles. Anne would be so disappointed.”

“Don’t drag my mother into this, Louis.”

“Anne loves me,” Louis exclaims proudly. She does. He called her two days ago to complain about Harry not taking care of him and she cooed and then called Harry and spent half an hour telling him off. Harry was a little cross with Louis afterwards but it only took Louis jumping into his bed and cuddling him for like twenty minutes for Harry to start smiling again. Then he went down to the kitchen to make them dinner. Louis’ favourite, too.

He really does love Harry a lot. Just not when he’s a fucking idiot making Louis do stupid things for his stupid friends who have stupid hair and stupid clothes and who Louis can’t stand.

“I’m not gonna do it,” Louis says decisively, stomping his foot a little. If Harry mentions it to anyone, he’ll protest and argue until they let it go. For now it makes him feel more powerful.

Harry just smiles at him, like he already knows Louis will change his mind. Louis sets his jaw and looks away for a second, only to take Harry by surprise when he pounces on him and tickles him until he’s crying and can barely breathe. It serves him right. He also bites him a little, just because he can.

When the boys arrive, Harry opens the door with a hand on his neck, grumbling about Louis secretly being a vampire. He also glares for the first ten minutes after they sit down, until Louis moves into his lap and plays with his hair, and then leaves a kiss on the place he’s bitten.

He makes Liam go get him a drink because Harry’s too comfortable for Louis to let him get up. Harry kisses his hair and holds him a little closer.

Harry’s his favourite.

He’s still not going to do that stupid thing for Nick Grimshaw, though.

***

He does that stupid thing for Nick Grimshaw.

He ends up wearing the Puppy t-shirt because it’s simple and something he’d actually wear, and he might have had teared up a little when Harry told him where the doodle came from. He won’t ever admit to anything, though, and he already threatened Harry that he’ll destroy everything he loves if he so much as whispers a word to anyone, especially Nick. Harry just smiled at him innocently and said that Louis would have to destroy himself first since Harry loves him the most. Louis was way too busy punching him repeatedly and then cuddling with him to realise that Harry hadn’t actually promised him anything.

If he knows what’s good for him, though, he’ll keep his mouth shut.

Of course, as soon as the pictures are online, the Internet fucking implodes on itself and everyone starts screaming and speculating what it all means. Louis’ mentions on Twitter are an absolute mess that he doesn’t feel like dealing with. He’s pretty sure he causes minor heart attacks to some people on Tumblr, and if he spends his evening scrolling through the tomlinshaw tag to watch people completely lose their shit, well, no one but him has to know about that.

It’s fun and he doesn’t actually mind, just like he doesn’t actually hate Nick, but he’s not gonna admit that one out loud. He loves to fuck with Harry and Nick’s always up for a good banter and a stupid fight and they both somehow put up with Louis’ shit. They love him, really. Nick can talk about how annoying he is and how much he can’t stand being in his presence all he wants, but he definitely secretly has a huge, embarrassing crush on Louis. Louis’ a fucking treasure.

He doesn’t expect there to be actual articles about it and it’s both weird and amusing. He tweets something about making it big when the media are reporting on what shirt you decide to wear, and then leaves his phone on the bedside table and goes downstairs to annoy Harry.

“H, I’m bored,” he whines, collapsing on Harry where he’s lying on the couch, reading something. The impact of Louis’ fall makes him grunt and lose his grip on the book. It lands on the floor but he doesn’t reach for it, instead wrapping his arms around Louis.

Louis makes a pleased sound.

“Do you wanna go to a party with me tonight?” Harry asks, rubs Louis’ back with his hand. Louis closes his eyes. It feels really nice, he should make Harry give him a massage later. Use his fancy oils and scented candles and all that.

“Didn’t know you were going to a party,” he mumbles, pushing his face into Harry’s neck. Harry keeps petting him and it’s getting really hard to open his eyes. He just—he’s going to rest his eyes for a moment, that’s all.

“Just told you, didn’t I?” Harry replies and Louis bites him gently for the amusement he can clearly hear in his voice. He can almost see Harry rolling his eyes. “Do you wanna go, then?”

Does Louis want to go out with Harry, get shamelessly drunk, probably get in some trouble and do something embarrassing and then spend the rest of the night cuddled into Harry’s side and make him carry Louis to bed afterwards?

“Sure, babe,” he says, his words slurring a little. Harry’s hand feels so nice and he’s so comfortable. They could take a nap, right? They definitely should take a nap. “Sleep, now,” he adds, trying to pet Harry’s head without looking. He thinks he ends up slapping him on the cheek, but Harry just sighs, grabs his hand, intertwines their fingers together and lets Louis sleep.

***

What Harry forgot to mention is that it’s Nick fucking Grimshaw’s party.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Louis is going to kill him. Louis is going to stab him or suffocate him with a pillow or push him down the stairs or find some other way to end his life for doing everything to ruin Louis’. Maybe he’ll give him alcohol poisoning, act all nice and keep bringing him more drinks, and Harry will never see it coming.

“I can tell you’re trying to plot my murder, you know,” Harry says and Louis just glares at him. He’s the picture of innocence, with his dimpled smile and sparkling eyes, straight from a Disney film. Everyone would probably fall for that, but not Louis. Louis is smarter than that; he knows better.

He keeps glaring.

“C’mon, baby, we’re gonna have fun,” Harry continues, resting his hand on the small of Louis’ back and, like. Sometimes Louis really isn’t surprised that so many people think they’re dating. They’re awfully affectionate and they both have no idea what personal space means. Harry also uses ridiculous pet names like _baby_. What guy calls his platonic best mate _baby_? Harry Styles, that’s who.

“I’m gonna get drunk and puke on your boots,” Louis says, looking at him blankly. Harry beams in response. Sometimes Louis wonders how Harry’s brain works.

“Yes! Let’s get drunk!” He takes Louis’ hand and drags him across the room. He keeps greeting everyone on their way and Louis just rolls his eyes when people’s stares keep moving down to their joined hands. Seriously, one day this kid is gonna out them even though there’s absolutely nothing to out. If someone could manage to do that, it would be Harry.

They get to the kitchen eventually and, alright, drinks are something Louis can definitely get behind. Maybe if he gets at least a little bit drunk, he’ll be able to forget who’s hosting the party.

No such luck, though. Before Louis even takes his first sip, The Host Himself appears in the kitchen, immediately pulling Harry into a hug.

This is Louis’ chance to escape. He clutches his glass against his chest and starts slowly backing out of the kitchen, towards the living room. He could easily get lost in the crowd,  and then he could hide somewhere and make someone else get him drinks until he’s absolutely smashed.

“Tomlinson! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

This really isn’t Louis’ lucky day.

“Nick,” he replies coolly, facing him. Nick is wearing one of his own shirts, the black one that looks like it has sperm on it. It’s Harry’s favourite and Louis finds it absolutely fucking ridiculous.

His hair is up in a quiff and his jeans are stupidly tight and his boots stupidly big. Just like his hand, wrapped around the glass.

Jesus Christ, Louis’ been spending too much time on Tumblr.

“Louis was really excited to come,” Harry says like he hasn’t already made Louis plan to kill him once tonight. The kid is really pushing his luck lately. Maybe Louis’ been too soft on him. He needs to up his game.

“I was lured here by Harry inviting me to a party and neglecting to mention that you’re the one hosting it,” Louis says. Harry rolls his eyes. Nick laughs.

“Come on, Tomlinson,” Nick puts his arm around Louis’ shoulders and brings him close. “Let’s have some fun.”

And. _Firstly_ , people need to stop saying that to him. Louis is the master of fun. The king of fun. There isn’t anyone better at having fun than him. And secondly—what. Louis just. Stops for a moment. Stares at the wall. Thinks about how much fucking taller Nick is and how _small_ he feels when he’s tucked into Nick’s side like this. Then he mentally smacks himself and pushes Nick away. He also punches him in the arm for a good measure. He nods to himself, satisfied, when Nick lets out a groan and glares at him.

“Let’s have some fun, then!” Louis chirps, flashes him a grin and then grabs a bottle of tequila and disappears in the other room.

***

Louis is _so_ drunk. Absolutely fucking pissed.

He’s been trying to find Harry for the last—well, he’s not sure. A long time. A very long time. Isn’t Harry worried about him? Shouldn’t he be the one looking for Louis? Louis should call Anne and tell her that Harry left him alone during a party. Yes, he’ll do that. In the morning. When he’s less drunk.

God, he’s so drunk.

He takes another little step forward and the room spins around him. Another, and he has to stop for a moment longer to stop feeling like the floor is slipping from under his feet. One more, and he collides with someone.

“Shit,” he says, gripping that someone’s shirt to stop himself from falling. Arms are being wrapped around him and suddenly it’s much easier to stay upright. That someone has nice, big hands and the fact that right now they’re splayed out on Louis’ back is even nicer. “You have nice hands,” he slurs, resting his forehead against Someone’s shoulder. Fuck, they’re tall, too. Louis fucking loves tall people.

“You’re so pissed, Tomlinson,” the person says and. Fuck. Shit. It’s Nick. It’s Nick fucking Grimshaw and Louis is currently hugging him. Well, ‘clinging’ would probably be a better word to describe what’s going on, but. Details. Unnecessary details.

“Nick. Don’t be a dick. Why are you always such a dick?” Louis asks. Nick’s arms around him tighten and they start moving slowly. “Where are you taking me? Are you taking me to Harry? Harry promised me cuddles,” Louis continues. He did. They always cuddle when Louis is drunk because Louis’ a cuddly motherfucker and Harry isn’t any better.

Maybe that’s why he’s still hugging Nick. Because that’s what’s happening. Right.

“Harry wouldn’t appreciate us interrupting him right now,” Nick sounds amused and Louis furrows his eyebrows. What is he talking about? Harry always appreciates Louis, even if Louis wakes him up in the middle of the night because he can’t sleep and there’s a marathon of Marvel films on the telly. He even appreciates Louis talking about how much he’d like to fuck Sebastian Stan.

Listen, he’s gorgeous and Louis would do unspeakable things to him if that was possible. Why can’t Louis meet him? He’s a good person. He’s also famous, he should be able to meet whoever he wants, right?

“Can I meet Sebastian Stan?” He mumbles against Nick’s shirt and fuck, why are they still moving? If Nick isn’t taking him to Harry, then he’ll have to carry him if he wants Louis to go _anywhere_. Yes. That’s a brilliant idea. Louis’ a genius.

He stops. It almost makes them fall but Nick apparently isn’t very drunk so he both steadies himself and catches Louis on time. Nice.

Why isn’t he drunk on his own party? That’s _boring_.

“Sure you can,” Nick replies and wait, what? What is he talking about? “I’m sure he’d be very happy to meet you.” And, oh, right. Sebastian Stan. The love of Louis’ life.

“I’m a delight,” Louis nods. Nick laughs, so Louis tries to kick him in the shin but he misses and loses his balance again. Nick wouldn’t let him fall, though. He knows Louis would make his life hell if he did.

Well. More than he already does.

“That you are, love,” Nick agrees and Louis smiles. He knew Nick was completely in love with him. He has to tell Harry. Just, in the morning. Now he’s too tired.

“Carry me,” he demands, moving his arms from Nick’s waist to his neck.

“Are you serious?” Nick asks, even though his hand’s already on Louis’ thigh. And, shit. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Louis gets horny when he’s drunk and he hasn’t fucked another human being in way too long. Also, he has a _thing_ for guys being bigger than him. He enjoys being manhandled. Fucking sue him.

Hell if he backs out now, though.

So instead he just jumps and wraps his legs around Nick’s hips, buries his face in Nick’s neck and lets Nick find his footing.

“Fuck,” he’s almost positive he can hear Nick breathe out right against his nape and he shivers a little, feels Nick’s hands on him tighten.

Shit. They should definitely get a move on if Nick doesn’t want Louis to get hard in his jeans. And with the way they’re pressed together, there’s no way Nick wouldn’t know.

“C’mon,” Louis says and bites down on Nick’s neck. And, just. What the fuck. This isn’t Harry. Louis can’t just… Christ, he’s never going to drink again.

He’s nothing if not determined though, so when Nick doesn’t move, he bites him again. Louis doesn’t get embarrassed. He doesn’t. The heat on his cheeks is just from the temperature in the room and too many people around them.

Oh God, there are _people_ around them. Who can see them like this. Louis’ life is over. He’s never gonna leave his house again, he’s gonna make Harry his servant and become a songwriter who can just always work from home. For the rest of his life.

Nick does start walking eventually and Louis just closes his eyes and tries not to be sick. Maybe drinking that entire bottle of tequila on his own wasn’t the brightest idea. He’s going to regret it so hard in the morning.

He lands on something soft. It’s warm and cosy. A bed, then.

He rolls onto his belly and pushes his face into the pillow. Smells nice, too.

“Can you take your jeans off? That must be really uncomfortable.” Nick’s taking off his shoes. Louis tries to wriggle his hand underneath himself but he only gets as far as to unzip his jeans and then he admits defeat.

“Need help,” he announces and Nick sighs. He flips Louis over and starts tugging his jeans off. Louis flails his hand around until it lands on Nick’s face and then starts patting his cheek. “Nick. Nick.” Pat, pat. Nick has really nice skin. Louis’ never noticed that before. He wouldn’t mind seeing that skin covered in his come.

And just. What. _What_.

He waits until Nick looks up at him. “Your hair’s stupid.” To emphasise his statement, he tugs at the carefully styled quiff. Nick just rolls his eyes and drops Louis’ jeans on the floor. If Louis wasn’t so drunk maybe he’d yell at him for not being careful with Louis’ clothes. Which, a bit hypocritical of him, considering the state of his wardrobe and bedroom. Whatever.

“Your face’s stupid,” Nick replies and Louis gasps, looks at him with wide eyes.

“My face is gorgeous, Nick, what the fuck.” He narrows his eyes when Nick takes off his own jeans and changes into a tee. “Are you gonna sleep with me?”

“No point in going out there when you ruined my hair with your grabby fingers, is there?” Nick climbs into bed next to him and turns the lights off. Louis preens. That he did.

“Take that back,” he still remembers to say. “About my face.”

It’s too dark to see anything but Louis is almost completely sure that Nick’s rolling his eyes right this second.

“You’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen,” Nick says and. What.

Louis opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling. His heart is beating stupidly fast. It’s definitely because he’s drunk. Yes. There isn’t any other reason for that.

“Can we sleep now?” Nick asks, amused.

Louis nods. Remembers Nick can’t see him. Clears his throat. “Yeah,” he says and it sounds weak even to his own ears. Christ.

They stay on their separate sides of the bed and Louis closes his eyes again. He’s dead tired but for someone reason he can’t fall asleep, no matter how hard he tries.

He knows exactly what the reason is. Fuck it all to hell.

“Nick.”

Nick sighs. Louis’ eyes have adjusted to the darkness enough that he can make out Nick turning around to face him. He opens his arms. “Come here, then.”

Louis bites his lip. Slowly shuffles closer and rests his head on Nick’s chest. The cotton is soft against his cheek, and Nick wraps his arms around him and holds him close, leaves a brief kiss on the top of Louis’ head. Louis’ pretty sure he wouldn’t even feel it if he wasn’t so aware of every place where they’re touching.

“I still hate you,” he mumbles and smiles when Nick laughs. And then he sleeps.

***

The first thing Louis notices when he wakes up is that his head feels like it’s going to explode any second. The second one is that his mouth feels dry and absolutely rank, like something crawled in there during the night and died. The third thing is that he’s tucked into someone’s side, with his head on their shoulder and his lips against their collarbone, his arm thrown over their waist and his leg over their hips. And that leads him to the fourth thing, which is that he’s undeniably hard in his boxers and there’s no way that other person can’t feel that.

“I know you’re not sleeping,” the person says and. Right. Nick. He fell asleep with Nick last night. He can’t remember much of what had happened but he can remember some of his thoughts and he can feel himself blush. Shit.

Nick can feel Louis’ cock against his thigh.

“’m, too,” he mumbles and freezes when Nick’s fingers make their way into Louis’ hair. It feels nice. It feels real fucking nice but they don’t—They don’t do that, right? Did Louis miss something?

“I don’t mind you using me as a pillow at all but I really need a wee and I think you have something to sort out,” Nick says and Jesus fucking Christ. Of course he has to go and mention it.

Don’t make it awkward. Louis won’t let him make it awkward. He also won’t let Nick embarrass him.

“You should feel lucky, you won’t get to touch my dick otherwise,” Louis says and pushes himself up and away from Nick. When he looks at him, Nick’s smirking. Louis grips the duvet in his hands so he won’t reach out and punch him in the face.

“Oh, I do feel lucky, babe. Now I can tell everyone I had a popstar in my bed who drooled on me in their sleep and acted like a blanket,” Nick laughs, standing up. Louis’ jaw drops.

“Oi, I don’t drool! Stop being such a—“ Before he can finish, Nick stops on the other side of the bed, right next to Louis, and drops a kiss to his forehead. Then he winks and disappears in the bathroom.

“—dickhead,” Louis finishes weakly and stares after him. Then he falls back on the bed, buries his face in the pillow and lets out a groan.

What the fuck even was that?

***

When he wakes up again, it’s because someone’s lying on him and kissing his cheek.

“Nick. Nick, leave me alone,” he murmurs, not opening his eyes and trying the get the unnecessary weight off himself.

There’s a moment of silence and then, “This isn’t Nick.”

Fuck. God fucking dammit. Harry is never going to let him live this down.

“Did you expect Nick to wake you up with a kiss?”

When Louis takes a peek at him with only one eye open, Harry’s glowing and looking overly smug. Louis wonders for a moment if he can just pretend that he went back to sleep, but then Harry speaks again. “Do you want me to go get him?”

“No!” He sits up, making the whole room around him spin. He groans and rubs his temples. He’s never drinking again. It makes him end up in bed with Nick Grimshaw and suffer horribly the next day.

“Did you sleep together? Did you _cuddle_?” Oh God. Harry looks like a five year old getting his dream Christmas present. Louis can’t deal with that much happiness and enthusiasm when he’s hungover and in a desperate need of something to drink. And some painkillers, preferably.

“We didn’t fucking cuddle,” he grumbles. They did. They cuddled and Louis slept like a baby and also woke up hard. Harry doesn’t need to know any of that.

Alright, he needs to deal with this differently, seeing as Harry won’t just let it go. He’s already opening his stupid mouth again.

Louis takes a deep breath and then looks up at Harry with wide eyes and a pout.

“H,” he whines, making himself look small and miserable. “Haz, my head hurts.”

Harry eyes him for a moment but then visibly deflates and sighs.

“Sorry, baby,” Harry says and offers him a hug. Louis never turns down a good cuddle, especially if it’s from Harry. “Do you want me to make you tea and breakfast?”

“Yes,” Louis answers immediately because now that Harry brought up the topic of food, Louis’ suddenly starving. “Please,” he adds after a second, just because he knows it’ll make Harry smile.

“Go take a shower and then meet us in the kitchen,” Harry says and gently slaps him on the arse, to make him stand up. Louis stays in his place, though, until Harry kisses his temple, and then he offers him a bright smile and goes to the bathroom.

He uses all the fancy bottles of body wash and shampoo and, only after he’s out of the shower, realises that he’s gonna walk around all day smelling like Nick. He looks at himself in the mirror and shrugs. Oh well. At least it’ll make Harry happy. Or something.

He puts on his jeans from last night and hesitates with the shirt. He spent the night drinking and then sleeping in it and he doesn’t really feel like wearing it again without giving it a good wash.

His eyes land on Nick’s wardrobe.

Nick won’t mind if Louis borrows something, right? He did spend the night cuddling Louis and then left him with a kiss on the forehead. Which, okay, Louis still doesn’t know where _that_ came from. But he does think it means he can wear his stupid jumper. Nick did want him to wear his collection, so. Louis is doing exactly that.

Harry whistles as soon as Louis steps into the kitchen and Louis flips him off and takes a seat across from Nick.

“Good taste,” Nick comments with a smug smile. Both Harry and Nick look like they went to bed early and had a full night sleep while Louis feels like he’s dying. And how exactly is that fair?

Instead of saying anything, Louis just scowls at Nick and then drops his head on the table. It’s pleasantly cold against his forehead, so he closes his eyes and tries to ignore the wankers in the room with him. They both don’t fucking deserve to be in his presence. They should suffer with him and let him make fun of them so he’d feel better.

“Here, Lou, take this,” Harry says, putting something on the table next to him. Louis turns his head, so that now it’s his cheek resting on the table, and offers Harry a smile when he notices they’re painkillers and a glass of water. Maybe Harry isn’t that bad.

“You’re my favourite,” Louis announces, sitting up and swallowing the pills and then downing the rest of the water. God, he’s so thirsty. He asks Harry for more with just his eyes and Harry immediately gets it. That’s why he’s Louis’ best friend.

“Wow, I’m wounded, Tomlinson. I thought this morning meant more to you than this.”

Nick really wants Louis to punch him. He’s asking for it. If only Louis wasn’t so tired, he would stand up and go over there and slap him as hard as he can.

“I’ve woken up with lots of pretty boys before, you’re not special,” he says.

“You think I’m pretty, then?” Nick asks, sounding awfully smug. Harry looks very happy about it and Louis takes back that thing about Harry not being that bad. Harry’s the worst and he’s taking pleasure from Louis’ suffering and Louis wants both him and Nick dead.

He also needs to find a new best friend... Niall. _Definitely_ Niall. Niall loves him and he wouldn’t make fun of Louis for a slip of the tongue and calling Nick Grimshaw pretty.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Louis says, not even looking in Nick’s direction. “I didn’t mean it like that. And you,” he points at Harry, “should tell me where you disappeared to last night when I was looking for you.”

Nick grins. Harry blushes. Louis’ eyes automatically widen and his mouth falls open.

“Harry Styles,” he starts, lets an absolutely dirty smile take over his face, “did you get laid last night?”

“Maybe,” Harry replies, smiling shyly. His eyes are twinkling. Oh shit. Harry Styles, Louis’ best friend of five years, is infatuated with someone. Possibly already halfway in love. Louis knows that look. He hasn’t seen it in a long fucking time, not since that one girl Harry was completely gone for over three years ago. Awful heartbreak, too. Louis still remembers the terrible sharp pain he felt every time Harry sent him a sad smile, every time he wasn’t his happy, bubbly self, every night he spent crying in Louis’ bed.

Louis just wants him to be happy. That’s all he’s ever wanted.

“Who’s the lucky one, then? Did you use protection? I’m too young to be an uncle, Harold.”

“Shut up, Lou,” Harry says, rolling his eyes. He puts the breakfast on the table and hands Louis a mug with perfectly made tea. Good boy. “His name’s Lucas. We met ages ago through a mutual friend and last night we just spent some time together and…”

“And you fucked in one of Nick’s spare bedrooms,” Louis finishes for him and Harry smacks him with a cloth.

“It was much more romantic than that!” Harry pouts. Honestly, only Harry Styles can call hooking up during a party, while you’re both not completely sober, _romantic_.

“Sure, Haz. ‘m just glad to see you happy,” Louis says and Harry a _wws_ and plops onto his lap.

“Now we just have to find _you_ someone to date!”

From the look on Harry’s face, it seems like he’s already found someone Louis could date. And that someone is sitting right in front of them, on the opposite side of the table, watching them with amused eyes.

Louis tweaks Harry’s nipple, pushes him off his lap and starts eating his breakfast.

***

Harry insists they should stay at Nick’s and help him clean up. Louis tries to argue and says that he just wants to go home and get into bed and sleep his hangover away, but Harry looks at him with big eyes, a pleading look and a pout, and Louis, defeated, announces he’s not going to do a damn thing, and just lie on the sofa the entire time.

He’s not sure how he ends up with a hot chocolate, a blanket, Nick’s dog cuddled into his chest and his legs in Nick’s lap, but somehow here he is.

It’s not half bad.

“How can such a cute dog have such a dickhead of an owner?” Louis coos, scratching behind Pig’s ears. She wriggles excitedly and looks at him with stars in her eyes and then tries to get closer so she can lick his face. Nick coughs and rolls his eyes.

“Do you ever shut up, Tomlinson?” Nick asks, looking at him with his lips pressed into a thin line but Louis can easily spot the amusement dancing in his eyes. It does _not_ make him feel warm inside. It doesn’t. It’s just Harry and fucking _Tumblr_ of all places, putting ridiculous ideas into his head. He’s going to throw his laptop out and never go on that godforsaken website ever again.

“No,” he replies, still petting Pig. She loves him. He’s going to steal her and never give back to Nick. She clearly prefers him over obnoxious wankers with quiffs.

Nick’s hair isn’t in a quiff today. It’s soft and a bit curly and falling over his forehead and Louis tries very hard not to reach out and touch it or just think about it at all. Just like he doesn’t think about the fact that he’s never seen Nick not dressed up before. He isn’t today. He’s wearing joggers and a washed-out tee with a rip in it and Louis kinda wants to ask where it came from and why Nick decided to keep it.

That would mean that he _cares_ though, and he doesn’t, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“I could think of some things that would make you,” Nick murmurs, probably more to himself than Louis, but that doesn’t change the fact that Louis hears it anyways and it also doesn’t make the blush, slowly spreading on his skin, disappear.

He kicks Nick.

“Dickhead,” he says but when Nick looks back at him with raised eyebrows and a smirk, he can’t help but smile back.

He’s _so_ fucked.

He takes the empty bottle of water from the table and throws it at Nick. “Make me more tea,” he demands because there are _feelings_ inside his chest and he’s not going to deal with that. Instead he’s going to throw things and insult Nick and make him do things for Louis. Because they’re mortal enemies and Louis does _not_ think about tucking himself into his side, like he did during the night. He doesn’t. He hates Nick.

“Your hair’s still stupid,” he adds, just because he can, and Nick laughs. Nick always laughs at the stupid shit Louis says and Louis appreciates that in a person.

“We went over that last night, love,” Nick just replies, rearranging the blanket where it slipped when he stood up, so it covers Louis’ legs and feet. Stupid Nick doing stupid things to Louis’ insides. Maybe Louis’ sick. Maybe it’s a symptom of some deadly disease and Louis is dying. He should call his mum and tell her he loves her, just in case.

When Nick comes back from the kitchen, he’s carrying both a mug of tea made just how Louis likes it and a sandwich, even though Louis didn’t say anything about being hungry.

Louis tells him that, and Nick just looks at him, amused, and sets the plate on the table, taking his previous seat and tracing circles into Louis’ ankle with his finger.

Twenty minutes later, the sandwich is gone and the mug is half empty and they somehow switched positions, so that it’s Louis’ head in Nick’s lap and Nick’s fingers are gently massaging Louis’ scalp and playing with his hair. There’s something playing on the telly, but Louis’ eyes are closed and he’s almost asleep, Nick’s touch making him feel pliant and relaxed.

He can still hear when Harry steps into the room, though.

“Say a _word_ and I’ll kill you,” he warns, not even opening his eyes. Harry, to his credit, only laughs and doesn’t comment on their current position, just sits down and starts talking quietly to Nick.

Louis doesn’t move.

***

“Harry, I’m not—I’m not _dating_ Nick Grimshaw. Did you hit your head or something?”

Louis is kind of actually concerned. Shouldn’t he be though? Harry just flat out asked him if Nick is his boyfriend, which is probably the most ridiculous thing he’s heard in a long time. Like that one time when some people insisted that he and Harry weren’t in the same room while writing a song together and that it definitely wasn’t a love song, even though it was clearly a love song. Louis adores their fans and everything they’ve done for them, but sometimes he really wishes they used logic a bit more often. And he means it in the nicest way possible.

“You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with him lately.”

Louis shrugs. He can’t exactly deny that, considering he’s been at Nick’s place almost every evening. He’ll die trying, though.

“I’ve been going there for Pig,” he starts and Harry just shoots him an unimpressed look, raising one of his eyebrows. Louis sighs. “I’ve always been spending an awful lot of time with you. Are we dating? Have you been secretly dating me all this time? Are our fans right after all?”

It says a lot about their friendship that Harry doesn’t even bother commenting, just rolls his eyes and gives Louis a clear _cut the crap_ face.

“But you don’t _like_ me,” Harry continues and Louis gasps, clutches his heart. He’s an amazing actor. He should definitely get a role in some film. Alongside Sebastian Stan, preferably. As a romantic interest or something. He could easily seduce him for real, he’s sure. And then they’d get married and have a bunch of kids and live happily ever after.

Wouldn’t it be nice.

“What do you mean I don’t like you? I love you!”

“You’re such an annoying dick,” Harry says but there’s that fond smile on his face that he only gets when he’s with Louis. It makes Louis melt a little every time, but he doesn’t let himself show it. He’s cold and indifferent. “I love you, too,” he adds because he always says it back. They’ve been best friends for over five years and there hasn’t been a time when he didn’t. He makes sure to tell Louis that he loves him even when he’s mad at him, and Louis will be forever grateful for having Harry Styles in his life.

He would be ever more grateful if Harry stopped nagging him about his love life and also Nick Grimshaw. Which for Harry is the same thing, apparently.

“We don’t kiss, though,” Harry sends him a cheeky smile and Louis just looks at him blankly.

“Do you need me to remind you of that time when we got drunk and—“

“No!” Harry screams, covering Louis’ mouth with his hand and stopping him before he can say anything more. Louis licks him and Harry doesn’t even make a face, doesn’t react at all.

Louis pouts.

“You didn’t deny that you and Nick kissed, though.”

Louis is _this_ close to just kicking him in the balls. It would serve him right. Harry would just look miserable all day after that, though, and make Louis feel bad.

He’s still considering it.

“We didn’t,” Louis protests immediately.

They did. Kind of. Louis was getting ready to go home, just waiting for a call that his car was already there to pick him up, and before he left, Nick had kissed him on the mouth. Just a small, chaste peck on the lips but it left Louis wide-eyed and made his heart beat loudly in his chest. Nick just smiled at him, though, and they’re still supposed to meet tonight.

Louis’ hands feel clammy when he thinks about that so he tries not to. He’s not sure what to expect and he doesn’t like that, either.

It does make him feel a bit excited, though, and he can’t stop fucking thinking about Nick’s lips.

 _Fucking_ Nick. He’s the reason for every problem in Louis’ life.

“I can tell when you’re lying, you know,” Harry says and he really needs to stop looking so smug every time he talks to Louis.

“You have two minutes to run,” Louis says. Harry’s smile falls and Louis just crosses his arms, stares at him.

“Lou—“

“One minute.”

Harry bolts. Louis waits ten seconds before going after him.

***

“Harry thinks we’re dating,” Louis says. Timing has never been his strong suit, considering he’s currently sitting in Nick’s lap and his lips hurt a little from too much kissing. He licks them and Nick’s eyes follow the movement before he puts his mouth on Louis’ neck and sucks gently. Louis’ fingers tighten in Nick’s hair and he closes his eyes, moves his head to the side to give Nick better access.

“Does he?” Nick muses, kissing the column of Louis’ throat. It’s getting a little difficult to breathe and if they don’t slow down, Louis is definitely going to get hard. Fuck.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, when Nick’s hands slip under his jumper (one from Nick’s collection. These things are _comfortable_ , alright, and it doesn’t mean anything. He likes cosy clothes and he likes watching people speculate what it all means. He might also like the way Nick’s eyes roam over his body every time he wears something of his, but it’s nothing. Harry can laugh and shake his head all he wants.) “How stupid is that?”

“So stupid,” Nick agrees, kissing Louis’ shoulder. He grips the hem of Louis’ jumper and looks up at him. “Can I take this off, then?”

Louis nods, and in a blink of an eye he’s half naked on Nick Grimshaw’s couch. In his lap. Hard in his jeans and slowly unbuttoning Nick’s shirt.

“I don’t know where he gets those ideas from,” Louis continues, throwing the shirt on the floor and sliding his hand down Nick’s chest, until he gets to his jeans. He waits for him to nod before he unzips them. Nick’s hard, too. “We’re just hanging out, being lads.” He palms Nick through his pants, and Nick makes a small sound in the back of his throat.

“Sure, love,” he says, and brings Louis in for another kiss. Nick’s kisses make Louis go completely pliant, because somehow he does exactly what Louis likes. “Are you gonna get down on your knees for me?”

Louis breathes in, out, nods. He slides off Nick’s lap and Nick lifts his hips up a little so Louis can tug his jeans and boxers off in one go. Louis takes him in one hand, moving slowly, and just lets himself look for a moment, take it all in.

God, he’s about to suck Nick’s dick. If someone told him that a month ago, he’d laugh in their face and ask if they’re feeling alright. And now, here he is. Wanting this more than anything.

“Y’alright?” Nick asks softly, strokes Louis’ cheek gently. There’s so much _want_ in his eyes, but also something else, something that makes Louis shiver, nod again. He feels like a stupid teenager with a crush.

Which doesn’t make sense, because he doesn’t have a crush on Nick. Obviously.

He takes the tip into his lips, sucks, circles it with his tongue. He takes his time before moving further, taking more of him into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks. He hasn’t done that in a long time, but he’s determined to make Nick feel good, so he takes a deep breath through his nose, tries to relax his throat and take more, until Nick’s cock hits the back of his throat and he lets out a loud moan.

When Louis looks up at him, his chest is heaving and his throat is exposed where he’s thrown his head back, his eyes closed.

Louis pulls back and Nick lets out a whine.

“Least you can do is look at me when I have your dick in my mouth,” Louis says and, fuck, his voice is already ruined. He tries to look unimpressed but it’s not easy when Nick’s naked in front of him, laughing, and Louis’ jeans are getting uncomfortably tight.

He does his best, though.

“Sorry, baby,” Nick says, still amused, and he puts his hand into Louis’ hair, gently pushes him back towards his cock. Louis sighs, acting like sucking Nick off is the worst chore.

Nick doesn’t take his eyes off him after that and he keeps touching him, praising him, telling him how good he looks. Louis’ cheeks feel hot and his jaw is pleasantly aching and he has to unzip his jeans and squeeze the base of his cock so he won’t come right there and then.

He has other plans for tonight.

He stops when he can tell Nick’s close and Nick groans, this time from frustration.

“Wanna ride you,” Louis says casually and _that_ immediately gets Nick’s attention. Louis smirks.

“Do you want to go to the bedroom?”

“No,” Louis answers, and Nick just stares at him for a moment, dumbfounded, before Louis raises his eyebrow.

“Right,” Nick clears his throat. “I’ll just go, um, go get the—yeah,” he says, pointing towards the bedroom, and walks out of the room, while Louis just keeps looking at him, absolutely fucking amused.

Nick’s such an idiot, honestly. Louis isn’t sure if he wants to punch him or kiss him more.

When Nick gets back, Louis’ completely naked and sitting on the couch, with his hand wrapped around his cock, moving slowly, almost lazily.

“Took you long enough,” he says and Nick rolls his eyes, leaves the bottle of lube and a condom on the armrest and puts a towel on the couch.

“Sensible,” Louis comments.

“One of us has to be,” Nick replies which earns him a slap. He just laughs and sits down, tugs Louis into his lap, starts kissing him. Louis contemplates pushing him away, making him try harder, but he really wants to get fucked. So he reaches out for the lube and stops for a second when he notices it’s already open and halfway used.

It’s really not his place to ask. He shouldn’t.

Nick, of course, notices, because Louis is an obvious fuck sometimes and he should really rethink this whole acting career he’s started planning out.

“Just for myself, love,” Nick says, and. Fuck. Now Louis has a very vivid image in front of his eyes, of Nick lying in his bed, fingering himself open. “You wanna see?” He asks nonchalantly, and, _Christ_. Louis licks his lips, thinks about it. Thinks about watching Nick opening himself up, fucking himself back onto his fingers, until Louis gives him his cock. Thinks about fucking him. It makes something hot pleasantly curl in his belly. He definitely wants that.

“Another time,” he eventually decides and Nick nods, easy as anything. There’s no way Louis doesn’t get to fuck him one day. Tonight, though, tonight he wants Nick inside him, as soon as possible.

He pours some lube over his own fingers and circles his rim, pushes one in slowly. He closes his eyes and concentrates on his breathing, on the feeling of Nick’s hands on his waist, starts moving.

“So pretty like this,” Nick murmurs absently, like he’s not even aware that he’s saying anything, and Louis moans, kisses him while he adds another finger.

He’s fast and precise, wants to prep himself as quickly as possible, since that’s the whole point of him doing it himself instead of letting Nick. He knows Nick would want to take his time, and they’ll have a chance to do that, they will, but right now Louis just really wants his cock.

He’s so lost in the feeling, he doesn’t notice Nick moving, not until one of his fingers is pressing inside him alongside Louis’. Louis keens, pushing back, and puts his other hand on the backrest of the couch to steady himself.

“Fuck,” he moans because Nick is going straight for his prostate and Louis wants to come so badly he thinks he might actually cry. “’m ready,” he breathes and pulls out, just rest his forehead against Nick’s shoulder for a moment to catch his breath. Nick rubs his back and kisses his neck, bites down. Louis lets out another groan and just lets Nick mark him up.

When Nick’s satisfied with the lovebite on Louis’ neck, Louis takes the condom and puts it on Nick, slicks him up, his own fingers shaking slightly.

Nick intertwines their fingers together, kisses him. “It’s alright,” he murmurs against Louis’ lips and Louis _knows_. He knows. It’s just all a little overwhelming, is all.

It’s definitely overwhelming when he positions himself over Nick’s cock, slowly sinking down, taking him in.

“God,” he whimpers when he’s completely seated in Nick’s lap, Nick’s hands gripping his hips hard enough to leave marks. Louis kisses him, maybe a bit more desperately than he planned, messily, but Nick just lets him, rubs little circles into his skin with his thumbs.

He starts slow, just little teasing rolls of his hips, getting used to the feeling, the slight burn turning into pure pleasure. He lifts himself up a bit and then moves back down, his and Nick’s moans tangling together in the air.

He builds up the rhythm, quickening the pace, and he knows Nick is trying really hard not to just fuck up into him or flip them around and do the work.

He probably knows Louis would tell him off and hit him if he tried to do that before Louis told him to.

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers when he finds his prostate and he tries to move faster and keep the angle at the same time. His thighs are fucking killing him. “Kiss me,” he orders, his voice high and breathy. In other circumstances, maybe he’d be embarrassed about that, but right now he doesn’t give a shit.

Nick does kiss him, but it quickly turns into just panting into each other’s mouths. God, Louis wants _more_.

“Just fuck me,” he whines and slumps against Nick’s chest, bites down on his shoulder.

“Demanding little thing, aren’t you?” Nick muses and Louis would punch him if he wasn’t currently filled with his cock and if Nick didn’t just start doing exactly what Louis told him to, thrusting against his prostate almost immediately.

“Nick, _there_ , fuck,” Louis moans. His cock is rubbing against Nick’s stomach, leaving precome all over his skin, and it feels nice, it does, but it’s not _enough_. “ _Please_.”

Nick keeps fucking him, nice and hard, and Louis wedges his hand between them, wrapping it around his cock, pulling himself off.

He’s quiet when he comes, letting out little whimpers and breathy whines and he lets Nick continue to fuck him, just on the right side of being too sensitive, until he comes, too.

They stay like that, catching their breaths, Nick with his arms around Louis, pressing kisses into his hair.

“Take me to bed,” Louis mumbles, hissing a little when Nick lifts him up gently, pulls out.

“Need to clean up a bit, love. Go on and I’ll join you,” Nick says, making Louis grunt.

“You’re a terrible lay,” he announces, carefully standing up. His thighs are trembling slightly and he can see bruises slowly forming on his hips. He automatically thinks about the lovebites Nick’s left on his neck and groans internally. Harry’s going to give him so much shit for it. He’ll never live it down.

“The fucked out look on your face says something different, babe,” Nick smirks, leaning down to kiss Louis, who pushes him away, pouts.

Nick sighs. “I’ll be quick and bring you tea and cuddle you to sleep.”

Louis narrows his eyes. “I want chocolate.”

Nick laughs. “You can have all the chocolate you want, love,” he promises and Louis bites down on his lip to stop himself from smiling, nods. Nick kisses the corner of his mouth. “Go on, then, keep the bed warm,” he adds and Louis sighs dramatically, pinches him, and goes lie down.

He stops by the bathroom to wipe himself off, pulls on Nick’s tee and climbs into bed. When Nick joins him, he kisses him until Louis’ pliant and sleepy, tasting the tea and chocolate on his tongue, and then bringing him close to his side.

“You’re quite alright,” Louis says, his words slurring a little from how tired he is. He pats Nick’s chest. “I still hate you, though,” he adds, just to make things clear.

Nick laughs. Louis likes that Nick laughs a lot around him. “Hate you, too, Lou.”

“No, you don’t,” Louis immediately replies. Nick doesn’t. Nick has a huge, embarrassing crush on Louis and he’s just too scared to admit that. Yes. Louis should tell him about that. “We need to tell Harry we’re not dating,” he continues, feels Nick pressing a kiss to his forehead. It feels nice. Louis should sleep over more often.

“Sure we aren’t, love,” Nick sounds amused. Why is he amused? Louis didn’t say anything funny. “We’ll tell him whatever you want.”

Louis nods, satisfied. That’s right. They should always do what Louis wants.

***

“We should go on a double date!” Harry exclaims suddenly. They’re eating breakfast together and Harry was just telling him about his last date with Lucas while Louis was scrolling through his twitter, observing the meltdown caused by him getting papped wearing Nick’s collection _again_. People are constantly speculating whether they’re actually friends after all this time or if it’s maybe just because they’re both friends with Harry. There are some, though, who seem sure that Louis and Nick are secretly dating. Harry seems to be one of them.

The fact that Nick keeps rambling about Louis on the radio and tweeted him with the sparkling heart emoji a couple of days ago doesn’t really help to stop these rumours.

“The problem with this plan, Haz,” Louis starts slowly, looking up at him and wrapping his hand around his cup of tea, “is that Nick and I aren’t dating,” he finishes, bringing the cup to his lips and taking a sip. He can hear some commotion coming from his bedroom and a moment later quiet steps in the hallway.

“You’ve been on like a million dates by now,” Harry protest, just as Nick appears in the doorway. He’s wearing only his boxer briefs and a t-shirt that’s too big on Louis. Maybe it was Nick’s in the first place and Louis’ just stolen it.

Well, it’s his now.

Nick raises his eyebrow at Harry’s words and leans down to greet Louis with a kiss. He ruffles Harry’s hair and sits down with them, pours himself a cup of coffee. Louis did not make it for him, no matter what awful lies Harry might say.

“You kiss! He sleeps over, like, all the time!” Harry adds, narrowing his eyes at them.

“It’s closer to his work,” Louis replies automatically and ignores Harry’s mumbled _it’s the fucking weekend_. “We still hate each other.”

“Yeah, I could hear last night just how much,” Harry says. Louis kicks him under the table and Nick snorts into his coffee. Louis sends him a glare. Dickhead. He should be on Louis’ side if he wants to get his hands or mouth on any part of Louis’ body ever again.

“Nick, tell him,” Louis complains. Nick sighs, puts his coffee down and turns towards Harry.

“We’re not dating,” he states, before looking back at Louis. “Do you want to try that Italian restaurant I told you about yesterday, then?”

“If you’re paying,” Louis shrugs. Nick sends him a blinding smile and Harry just stares at them blankly for a moment, before throwing his hands in the air and walking out, muttering something about insufferable idiots.

Louis kindly ignores him. He’s gonna think about something awful he can do to him later.

“Can we go to that park with Pig again?” He asks, stealing the last piece of toast from Nick’s hand and stuffing it into his mouth. Nick doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even sigh, just finishes his coffee and shrugs.

“Sure, whatever you want,” he replies and Louis smiles, pleased.

“C’mon,” he says, standing up and reaching his hand out so Nick can intertwine their fingers together. “You’re gonna blow me in the shower.”

“So demanding,” Nick says, but he wraps his arms around Louis’ middle, presses a kiss to the side of his head and follows him to the bathroom.

***

When Louis finally, properly meets Lucas, he spends the first fifteen minutes just observing him quietly, and the way he’s acting with Harry. He can tell it makes the poor boy a little nervous and that Harry finds it both amusing and completely unnecessary.

When Nick joins them, he just takes one look at the scene in front of him and shakes his head.

“Come off it, Lou, leave the boy alone,” he says and shakes Lucas’ hand. “Hiya, I’m Nick, Louis’ boyfriend.”

Lucas smiles at him politely and introduces himself, and Harry looks absolutely victorious and smug.

Louis hits Nick and rolls his eyes.

“He’s not,” he says. “He’s just a fling that I’ll get bored of after a month and find someone younger and prettier.”

It’s been four, almost five months and Louis’ mother has started insisting that he brings Nick to Donny and introduces him to the family. Louis tries not to think about that.

“Stop breaking my heart, baby,” Nick pouts, tugging at the hem of Louis’ shirt until Louis sighs and kisses him. It’s a bit awkward because Nick’s smiling like the annoying idiot he is.

Louis feels warm inside.

“Ignore them,” he hears Harry say. “They just don’t want to admit how stupid they are for each other.”

“Oi, Styles, watch your mouth,” Louis says, stepping back from Nick and pinching Harry’s arm. “Go bring us something to drink and I’ll take your boy to the living room,” he adds, grinning.

Harry looks resigned. “You’re gonna embarrass me, aren’t you?”

“Yep!” Louis says happily. Harry lets out a long breath and kisses Lucas’ cheek.

“Please don’t listen to him,” he begs, making Lucas laugh. “And you,” he points at Nick, “watch over your boyfriend.”

“Not my boyfriend,” Louis reminds him and Nick just smiles innocently at Harry, making him groan.

“I hate all of you,” he announces and goes to the kitchen.

As soon as he’s out of the earshot, Louis starts telling Lucas about that one time Harry was so drunk he started pretending to swim on the floor and talked about being a mermaid. And then he proceeds to tell him other stories, with help from a very amused Nick.

Louis is definitely going to keep him.

***

“Luke’s alright,” Louis mumbles, when they lie in bed that night. Nick is tracing Louis’ back with his fingers and resting his cheek on Louis’ head and it feels stupidly nice. Louis got so used to falling asleep with Nick that he has trouble doing it on his own on the rare nights when Nick has to go back to his own flat for some reason.

In Louis’ opinion, none of these reasons are good enough.

“Yeah, he is,” Nick agrees. Louis closes his eyes, focuses on the steady beat of Nick’s heart. “Harry’s proper gone for him.”

Louis nods. He was a bit worried, at first, because Harry can sometimes fall so hard and fast, and then he always ends up with his heart broken, and Louis’ heart always breaks a little right along with it every time. Lucas, though, Lucas looks at Harry like he’s put the stars in the sky and like he’s never seen anyone more interesting. It took five minutes of Louis seeing that look for him to relax and deem Lucas worthy.

He still threatened him with a slow, painful death if he ever hurts Harry, obviously. Harry’s the best person Louis knows.

“G’night, love,” Nick murmurs, kissing Louis’ head when Louis is silent for too long. And, well. Maybe Harry is _one_ of the best people Louis knows.

“Goodnight,” he whispers, moving even closer to Nick, smiles fondly. “Boyfriend.”

 ***

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](http://clairdeloune.tumblr.com/) :)


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